Vanilla Twilight
by xOxbabii.girl.flying.solo.xOx
Summary: She knows barely anything about her past. But a certain blue-eyed boy is determined to make a difference. But what happens when her past comes back to haunt her? What can he do for her then? "I will do anything to protect you. I will fight for you." TxG.
1. Chapter 1

When she woke, she thought she was blind. She opened her eyes and could see only purple darkness, ominous and shapeless shadows stirring within other, darker shadows. Before she had time to panic, the gloom gave way to a pale haze, and the haze resolved into a white, square-tiled ceiling.

She smelled fresh with bed linens. Antiseptics. Disinfectants. Rubbing alcohol.

She turned her head, and pain flashed through the length of her forehead, as if an electric shock had snapped through her skull from one temple to the other. Her eyes immediately swam out of focus, pain surging through her. When her vision cleared once again, she saw that she was in a hospital room.

She could not remember being admitted to a hospital. She didn't even know the name of it or even what city she was currently in. _What the heck is wrong with me? _She thought, starting to panic once again.

She raised one dismayingly weak arm, put a hand to her brow, and discovered a bandage over half of her forehead. Her hair was a little shorter as well. One thing she could remember was that she had usually worn it long, with her natural dark curls. Now it was shoulder-length, with the same usual curls.

She had little strength to keep her arm raised. An ache was already beginning to form in her forearm; she let it drop back down to the white mattress.

She couldn't raise her left arm whatsoever, for it was taped to a heavy board and pierced by a long silver needle. She was being fed intravenously: the chrome IV rack, with its dangling bottle full of glucose, sat beside the bed in which she lay, weak and confused.

For a moment, she closed her mocha brown eyes, certain that she was only dreaming. When she looked again, however, the room was still there, unchanged: the white tile ceiling, white walls, a green tile floor, pale yellow drapes drawn back at the sides of the large window. Beyond the glass, there were tall evergreen trees of some sort and a cloudy gray sky with few patches of blue sky. There was another bed next to her, but empty; she had no roommate.

The side rails on her own bed were raised to prevent her from falling to the cold hard floor beneath her. She felt as helpless as a baby stuck in a wooden crib with no way out.

It was then she realized she didn't know her own name. Or her age, for that matter. Or anything else that told about herself.

She strained against the blank wall in her mind, attempting to topple it and release the memories imprisoned on the other side. She had no success; the wall stood, inviolate. Like a blossom of frost, fear opened icy petals in the pit of her stomach. She tried even harder to remember, but she still had no success.

_Amnesia. Brain damage._

Those dreaded words landed with the force of a brick in her mind. Evidently, she had been in an accident, resulting in a head injury, which had led her to forget almost every possible detail about herself. She considered the grim prospect of permanent mental disorientation, and she shuddered to herself. That thought scared her.

Suddenly, however unexpected and unsought it may have been, her name came to her. Gabriella. Gabriella Anne Marie Montez. Her age came as well. She was seventeen. She was only seventeen years old.

The flood of recollections turned out to be just a trickle. She still had no idea where she was or where she'd come from. She didn't know her favorite food, her favorite music, her favorite movie or anything like that… She didn't even know a single one of her friends' names. _Do I even have friends?_ What about her parents?

Her parents. Her mom was dead. _Wow. How did I know that? _She died August 4th, 2005. Almost five years ago. She blinked rapidly several times. And her dad? Gabriella racked her brain long and hard, anticipating the answer to come to her mind.

_Abuse. _And then she knew why her ribs were aching. And she knew why her head was damaged. And she knew why she was in the hospital. And she knew why she was lost and confused. She closed her eyes, trying to remember. That last thing she remembered was being shoved down the stairs and then…

Nothing. After that, she had awakened, confused, weak as heck, and blurry-eyes, in the hospital with no recollection of how she had gotten there at all.

"Well, well. Look who's up."

Gabriella turned her head, searching for the person who had spoken. Her eyes slipped in and out of focus again, and a new dull pain pulsed at the very base of her obviously damaged skull.

"How are you feeling? You look a little pale, but after what you've been through, that's completely expected, isn't it?"

The voice belonged to a nurse who was approaching the bed from the direction of an open door. She was a skinny, red-haired woman with hazel eyes. She was tall, dressed in a white nurse's outfit. She smiled at Gabriella with a warm smile, that made Gabriella feel a little more comfortable than frightened.

Gabriella tried to speak. She couldn't muster up the strength.

"Take your time," the nurse smiled, pushing the red call button at the headboard of Gabriella's bed. "I'm signaling the doctor right now, okay? He just needs to ask you a few questions and see what you know, alright?"

Gabriella nodded weakly, but clung to the nurse's white sleeve.

"It's okay," the nurse reassured her again. She checked the IV drip, then lifted Gabriella's right wrist to time her pulse.

_My God. If I can't speak, maybe I can't walk either._

Gabriella tried to move her legs beneath the white sheets. She didn't seem to have feeling in them; they were even more numb and leaden than her arms. A doctor in a white lab coat entered the room, apparently having responded to the call button pressed by the nurse. He was a husky, dour-faced man, about fifty, with thick black hair combed straight back from his deeply lined face. Gabriella looked beseechingly at him as he approached her bed.

Before she could try to speak again, the rapidly expanding darkness reduced her vision to a small spot, a mere dot, then the pinpoint. Darkness. She dreamed. It was a bad dream, very bad, a nightmare. For at least the two-hundredth time, she dreamed she was in her father's house, lying in a pool of her own warm, sticky blood.

When Gabriella awoke again, her headache was gone. Her vision was clear, and she wasn't dizzy any longer. Night had fallen. Her room was dimly lit, but only featureless blackness lay beyond the dark, large window. The IV rack had been taken away. Her needle-marked, discolored arm looked grossly thin against her white sheets.

"What… happened to m-me…?" Gabriella managed to squeak out. Her voice was faint, raspy, and hoarse, most likely from not talking for so long. It was probably difficult to understand, but it was a start, so it didn't matter to her. "Wh-where am I?" She asked, her voice still cracking. Her throat burned and seared.

The doctor pushed a button on the side of the bed and it rose slowly, bringing Gabriella into a sitting position, facing the doctor in the white lab coat. He handed her a glass of water from the bedside water. "Sip it slowly," he said. "It'll make your throat feel better. And then I have some questions, alright?"

Gabriella nodded and eagerly took the cup of water into her right hand. She put it up to her face and tipped it back, letting the cool liquid flow into her mouth. She swallowed, allowing the coldness of the water to soothe her aching sore throat. Once she finished drinking, she handed placed the cup back on the bedside table.

"Can you see my hand?" The doctor asked, placing his hand in front of Gabriella's face.

"Sure," Gabriella said quietly, the words becoming easier to pronounce now that her throat felt better.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" He asked.

"Two," Gabriella said automatically, seeing the two fingers he held before her face.

"And now how many?" He asked, changing the numbers.

"Four," Gabriella replied.

"Good," the doctor grinned, jotting something down in his notebook. He looked back up, his dark eyes probing Gabriella's, as if seeing right _through _her rather than just seeing her. "And do you know your name?"

"Gabriella Montez," she said, playing with the edge of her sheets.

"Middle name?"

"Anne Marie." Gabriella bit her lip, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't, she did. "And that's just about all I remember. I know I'm seventeen as well. I don't know my birthday, though."

The doctor's eyebrows furrowed together, as if he were confused. "You are seventeen. You were right. You were born May 12th, 1993. Is that all you know?"

"Um," Gabriella shifted on her bed. She cleared her throat. "My mother's dead. I'm not sure but… I think my father abused me. But I don't know for sure. I think I remember…"

"You're right on that as well, Miss Montez," the doctor nodded. "That's why you were here. Your next door neighbor found you on the bottom of the steps. The police had had complaints of him abusing you before, but they never did anything about it. They really had no proof to convict him of that. You covered up your bruises very well, sweetheart." He pulled a little mini flashlight out of the pocket of his lab coat. "Okay, just look straight into the light, sweetie. Good. Now follow the light with your eyes. Very good."

Gabriella blinked to clear her eyes again. "Do you know anything about my past?"

"No, not much. You're from New York." He flipped through his clipboard. "You're allergic to a few antibiotics… You've been to eleven different schools your entire life. Do you remember any of those?" He asked.

Gabriella though for a moment. "Yes. There was one in Michigan, one in Texas, Missouri, South Dakota, Washington, California, Utah, Ohio, Illinois, Maine, and New York."

"Very good," the doctor said. "I'm calling the nurse back in with your food. You're going to finally start eating solids. You've been having liquids surged into your body for the past month."

"Month?" Gabriella asked, her mocha eyes wide orbs.

"Yes, Miss Montez," the doctor said softly. "You were in a coma for a month to this day."

"A month?" Gabriella repeated, panicking now. "I can't have lost that much time! I can't have!" She shook her head frantically, her dark brown curls shaking wildly as she did so. "It's completely impossible. I won't believe it. I refuse to believe it… What's the proof?"

The doctor held out his charts to Gabriella. "It says you were brought in May 12th, 2010. Today's June 12th." He showed his watch to her. "And have you not noticed how much weight you've lost, because all you've been getting is liquids?"

Gabriella shook her head, but then nodded. "Well, I noticed that my arms look pathetically thin. But that was all."

"You've lost about twenty pounds in this past month," the doctor said. "And that's not healthy at all. You were already skinny to begin with. And your hair, we had to cut it a bit shorter to put the stitches in your head."

"Stitches?" Gabriella gulped, her hand flying back up to the bandage on her forehead.

"Yes. We had to give you stitches because the gash on your forehead was so deep."

"Can I have a mirror?" Gabriella asked him. As soon as she'd asked, she wished she hadn't. Her face was pale. Her normal heart-shaped face was more narrow. Her cheeks were gaunt. Her eyes were lifeless, and surrounded by purple puffy circles. Though, her complexion was still clear, without any flaws, as it had always been. "Oh, God. I look terrible."

"No, you don't," the nurse said, as she bustled back into the room, that same warm smile on her face. She had a more positive effect on Gabriella than the doctor had. He had seemed kind of rude and hurried. "You look beautiful."

"But you have to say that to all your patients here, don't you?" Gabriella asked.

The nurse laughed and brushed Gabriella's question off. The doctor left the room without another word. "Sorry about him," she added. "He's kind of…"

"Weird?" Gabriella filled in, raising her black eyebrows.

"I guess you could put it that way," the nurse spoke, with a heart laugh. "My name is Lucille."

"Have you been my nurse for the past month, then?"

Lucille nodded with a smile. "And I always knew you were going to pull through. I told them. I told them from the very start. Hardly anyone believed me. But somehow I knew you were tough and that you were going to make it. You're a fighter. That's important."

"What if I slip into another coma?" Gabriella asked.

"You won't," Lucille reassured her.

"Where am I going after I get out of here?" Gabriella asked.

Lucille hesitated for a moment. "You know, they haven't figured that out yet. Obviously, your dad's in jail, so you can't go back with him. And we wouldn't put you back with him anyway. We'd have to get Child Services out there… We can't seem to contact any of your family. It seems as if you have no other family."

Gabriella bit her lower lip. "You know, I can't seem to remember having any other family myself… Is that a bad thing? Doesn't that mean you have no where to place me? I won't have to go to a foster home or orphanage or something, will I?"

Lucille smiled and shook her head. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it. If we can't find anyone to place you with, you can stay at my house as long as you'd like. I have a handsome son about your age. He's actually here. But he's eating. Imagine that. A star basketball playing teen eating."

Gabriella laughed a little.

"His name is Troy," Lucille said. "I personally think he's the devil… No, I'm totally joking. He's a little sweetheart. Everyone loves him." She came over to Gabriella's bed and stuck a thermometer underneath her tongue.

"Mom!" Someone exclaimed as they came running into the hospital room. Gabriella caught her breath. Lucille was quite right. He was so cute. He was tall, with an athletic build, and strong muscles, but not too buff, like the creepy people on commercials. He had shaggy brown hair that fell just above his gorgeous baby blue eyes. He had a strongly structured face and flawless skin. He was grinning a cute little award-winning grin that made you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. "Oh, sorry." He said, his eyes moving over to Gabriella.

"Troy, what did I tell you about running into patient's rooms like that?" Lucile scolded Troy as if he was a little kid.

Troy nodded. "Yeah, mom, I know. But I have to tell you something!"

"What, Troy?" Lucille asked, as the thermometer beeped. She took it out of Gabriella's mouth and checked it. She wrote something down on her clipboard. She turned to look at her son. "Can't you see I'm with someone? Where are your manners?"

"Oh, sorry," Troy said. He walked over to the bed, a humorous look on his face. "I'm Troy." He stuck out his hand to shake her hand. "And you are?"

"Gabriella," she replied softly, shaking hand. When there hands touched, Troy and Gabriella both felt and electric spark run through their bodies and when their eyes connected, a warm glow went over their skin.

"Troy," Lucille warned, rolling her hazel eyes. "Stop."

Troy looked at his mom, his baby blue eyes wide. "What did I do?" He asked, offensively, losing his focus for a second, completely mesmerized by how beautiful Gabriella still looked, even though she'd been in a coma for a month. He knew this because he'd visited her room before. He'd talked to her, though he knew she couldn't hear him. But it was a way to vent his feelings.

"I'm with her," Lucille said. "I have to check on her."

"When did you wake up?" Troy asked, surprised.

"Not too long ago," Gabriella said, her voice rough again.

"You don't, like, remember me… do you?" Troy asked, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Vaguely," Gabriella asked, looking from Troy to Lucille. "Should I remember you?"

Troy shook his head. "I suppose not. We've never met."

Gabriella was confused now. "If we've never met than how are you so vaguely familiar? And why are you asking me if I remember you? Why should I remember you if we've never even met before?" Gabriella asked, trying to get al of her questions out.

Troy shrugged. "I don't know."

"He's lying," Lucille said. "He used to come in here and talk to you. I caught him once or twice."

Troy blushed again. "Mom!" he groaned.

"You did?" Gabriella asked, her eyes traveling back over to Troy. "I think I do remember you. Somehow. If I was in a coma, then I don't know how…"

"But you do?" Troy asked.

"Ish," Gabriella said.

"Ish?" Lucille asked. "And what on earth does ish mean?"

Gabriella laughed quietly. "It means kinda. It's just shorter to say. I don't know where I got it. I don't remember ever saying it before."

"You got it from me," Troy grinned. "I say that a lot. You must have heard me say it when I talked to you in your coma."

"What did you talk about?" Gabriella asked.

Troy avoided the question. "That's a nice plant," he said randomly, suddenly becoming very interested in the potted green plant sitting on the windowsill.

Lucille rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go get your tray of food. I'll be back. Troy, be good."

Troy stuck his tongue out at his mom as she left the room. Troy returned to Gabriella's side. "So how are you feeling?" He asked eagerly, as if he needed to know for some odd reason.

"Ugh," Gabriella moaned. "I'm hungry. And tired. And cold." She sighed. "And on top of that, I know hardly anything about my past life. A few things have come back, but not much… Hey, do you know if any of my stuff was brought here along with me? Maybe that will bring back something."

"Um," Troy turned around. "I doubt it. Well, actually, I remember someone bringing in a shoe box… I think they may have put it in your closet. Hold on." He walked over to the closet and reached for the knob. Gabriella felt strangely cold and a weird feeling took over her.

"Don't!" She suddenly shouted.

Troy turned around, his eyes wide. "What?" He said, removing his hand from the door knob.

"I have this weird feeling…"Gabriella said, feeling quite out of breath. "You shouldn't be anywhere near that closet. Please, just… We'll look later." She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, leaning back against her pillow to take a breath.

"Okay," Troy returned to her bedside as Lucille rushed into the room, a yellow foam tray in her hands.

"What's going on?" She asked. "I thought I heard someone yell." She looked curiously and eagerly between Troy and Gabriella.

Gabriella shook her head. "Nothing. I just had a weird moment." Lucille lay the tray down on Gabriella's lap and helped her sit up. Gabriella was so hungry that she began to shove food in her mouth, not particularly caring how she looked.

Suddenly, something popped into Gabriella's head. A memory perhaps. She was sitting down on a deck, with her feet in the water, with a girl on her left side, and a boy on her right. It was dark outside, but the moon lit up the scenery just right. They were swaying slowly back and forth and singing softly in perfect harmony. "Hey now, this is my desire. Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful to touch me…"

Gabriella's eyes flickered open, coming back into reality from the vivid memory. It was so real and life-like, so she knew it hadn't been a dream. That had actually been a point in her life, something she actually could remember about her past. This brought a faint smile to her lips.

"What?" Lucille and Troy asked in unison.

Gabriella realized she must have looked like an idiot right now. She'd stopped eating and dropped her fork, looked up, and smiled like a maniac. She began laughing hysterically, so hard that it brought tears to her mocha eyes. She was clutching her sides, which were aching from the manner of her laughing and she couldn't stop. But it felt good to laugh. It felt good to get it all out in the open, and laugh off her confusion. Because when she laughed, Troy laughed with her. And that seemed to make a whole lot more sense.


	2. Chapter 2

_She was lying on the floor. She could feel the hardness and wetness of the wooden floor… Wetness. Floors weren't supposed to be wet. And then she realized that it was hot, sticky blood that she was lying in. And she was bleeding from anywhere and everywhere possible. She was lying in a puddle of her very own, metallic-smelling blood._

_And he was bending over her. He was the one who was crouched down on the ground next to her, smiling down at her like a freaking obsessed maniac. He was the one who's hand was placed on her left arm, closest to him. And she was struggling. She had to get away. She had to break free from his grasp. She couldn't be here any longer. She needed to get out, before she was dead. He laughed. He watched her struggle and laughed at her. He raised his right hand, revealing the knife there and plunged it into her side as hard as he could._

A blood-curling scream brought Gabriella back to her senses. Her mocha eyes flickered open. She was panting, covered in an icy sweat, tangled up in the white hospital sheets. She was shaking violently, scared out of her mind. It took her a second to come into reality and realize that it was she who had screamed so loudly. And suddenly, there were people at her side. Two on her left. Two on her right. And she was screaming again, flailing frantically around her bed, struggling for an escape.

Gabriella didn't know why she was struggling, but she knew she was scared. Then she realized that the two people on her left were Lucille and Troy. Why Troy was here this late at night, she did not know. All she knew was that he looked weary and tired and pale and concerned and most of all, panicked and freaked out. Lucille looked similar. She looked exhausted as well, and her hand was on Gabriella's left arm, and Gabriella realized that it wasn't he who had been touching her after all.

"It was just a dream!" A lady on her right was saying. She was completely unfamiliar. Gabriella had never seen her before. She was short and chunky, with gray-blonde hair that was pulled into a tight, slick bun on the very top of her head, with half-moon spectacles that were hung on a chain around her neck. "It's okay. It was a dream. You're okay now."

"Breathe," the doctor next to her was saying. He was the same doctor as earlier. "Take a deep breath and hold it." He was fidgeting with something at his side, on a small metal tray, held up by a metal stand. He held it up to his eyes, staring at it.

A needle. "NOOOO!" Gabriella screamed at the top of her lungs, when the doctor handed the needle to the nurse, who prepped it. The doctor held Gabriella down on the left, pushing his hands on her right leg and right arm, holding her down. She tried to struggle. But he was much stronger than her. "PLEASE! NO!" She was begging him. Lucille had her pinned down on her left side, so she couldn't move either. Troy was standing at the foot of the bed, biting his lip nervously. "DON'T!" She shrieked.

"Please!" She cried, sobbing hard now. "Don't do it!" She could barely choke out her pleading words.

"Calm down, Gabriella," the doctor was saying into her ear.

She shook her head frantically, pleading with them not to put the needle into her skin. She didn't need to calm down. She needed to escape, to have some time to herself, to get away. "Troy!" She whimpered, struggling to free herself from their strong grips. "Don't let them! PLEASE! TROY! LUCILLE! NOOO!" And the nurse plunged the needle into her arm. Suddenly, Gabriella's body grew limp and her eyelids grew heavy.

"It'll help you sleep," Lucille said. "Just sleep."

Darkness consumed her again.

When she awoke this next time, she was alone in the room. The curtains were drawn back, pinned at the sides. It was bright, daylight at last. The sun was shining brightly. It was nice to see the sun, the sun that she hadn't seen in almost two months now. She hadn't been outside in almost two months. Wow. That was tough.

She was glad she hadn't dreamt. Well, if she had, she hadn't remembered it. So at least she knew it wasn't one of those nightmares again. One of those terrible nightmares again… She blinked a few times, memories from last night flooding back to her. She had dreamt that horrible dream again, and awoken, panicked and screaming, and they had tried to calm her, and that made her freak out only even more. She hated needles. She hated doctors. She hated hospitals. She hated her life.

Gabriella chewed on her lip. She felt so vulnerable, all of the time. Especially since she could hardly find the strength to move her legs. She remembered something Lucille had told her a few days ago. Today was the day they were going to start physical therapy with her. She remembered that Troy wouldn't be here today either. That made everything in her life a little sadder.

The door opened slowly, quietly, as if someone was trying not to disturb her. Lucille poked her head through the door, that same hearty smile on her face. "Oh, you're awake," she smiled. "I didn't expect you for a few more hours at most."

"Surprise," Gabriella managed to croak out.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, approaching the side of Gabriella's bed. She picked up Gabriella's left hand and put her thumb to her wrist, checking her pulse. She marked it down on her chart and paused for a moment, before pulling out her stethoscope. "Sorry. Procedure."

"It's okay," Gabriella said. "And I'm okay. A little worn out is all."

"Well, I would understand that," Lucille said, jotting something down on her brown cork clipboard. "Question. If it's not too personal. What are your nightmares about?" She asked, raising her reddish-brown eyebrows, that matched with her long straight and shiny hair.

Gabriella closed her eyes and leaned back against her pillow, relaxing. "The worst possible thing." She took a deep, calming breath. The last thing she wanted to do was relive that scene. "Even though some part of me knew it wasn't real, it seemed so life-like. And it seemed like he was really there. Like, I smelled him. I heard him. I _felt _him. It felt so real at the time, and even now it kind of still does. But then again, it's so distant, so… far away."

She cleared her throat. "It always starts out with me laying on the floor at my dad's house in a pool of my own blood. He's hurt me. I know he has. And he's always right next to me, bending over me, staring at me like some kind of creep. He stabs me. And then I wake up. It's never gotten any further than that. And it's almost like I can feel the pain when the knife pierces my skin. It's almost like I feel my skin break and rip and that's why I wake up."

"That's terrible!" Lucille exclaimed. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. If there's anything, _anything _I can do, let me know, alright? I'm always hear to talk if you need it."

"Is there some kind of drug so I never sleep again?"

Lucille laughed. "That's quite impossible, love." She sat on the edge of Gabriella's bed and put the back of her hand to Gabriella's forehead. "If there was one, trust me, I'd have my hands all over that."

It was Gabriella's turn to laugh this time. And she did. But not too hard. Because it made her ribs ache with pain. Lucille placed a thermometer under Gabriella's tongue and waited until they heard the small beep to pull it out and look at it. She smiled. "You're in the perfect range." She wrote something down quickly on her clipboard. She stood up again. "I'm going to go get your tray. Jello today. How fun."

Gabriella smiled a faint smile. "Thanks. But I'm not really hungry."

"But you have to eat."

"I don't want to," Gabriella sighed. She chewed on the inside of her cheek until the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. She swallowed hard. "I miss Troy."

A smile broke out on Lucille's face. "I knew that was what was going on inside of there." She walked over to Gabriella's bed again. "He misses you, too. I'm sure of it. He was so freaked out about last night, that dream you had. He wouldn't leave your side for hours. When we finally got him to go home, he couldn't sleep anyway. But he'll be here tomorrow. He just made a promise to a friend for today."

Gabriella nodded. "Right…"

"But you can't just not eat because he's not here," Lucille said. "That's just silly. I know you two have become close friends over the past couple of weeks, but still… That's still of you to do that. He'll be right back here tomorrow. I promise. Now, I'm going to get your tray and you will eat, correct?"

Gabriella smiled, realizing Lucille was just worried about her wellbeing. "Yes, ma'am," she said softly, fidgeting with her sheets. "And it's a little cold in here. Do you think you could turn on the heat or something?"

"Sure," Lucille said, and with last quick smile, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

For the second time today, Gabriella was alone again. She felt surprisingly lonely without Troy here. She had never imagined a day without him here. It was weird. It made her feel different. And not a good different either. A different she didn't like. A different that was almost indescribable. A different that told her that he was her other half. And though she'd only known him for a little time, it was safe to say she trusted him and she needed him.

Sitting there, Gabriella felt lost and confused. She knew nothing about her past and suddenly, so many possibilities were being thrust into her future. And that was all because of Troy. He'd helped her and been a friend to her, when she had no one else. Maybe that was why she had been so quick to trust him. Because he trusted her too.

The door opened. "Ella?"

Gabriella sat up straight. "Troy?" She blinked rapidly to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep and was dreaming. Sure enough, Troy stepped through into the room. "What are you doing here? I thought you were with a friend…"

"Yeah," Troy nodded. And a beautiful girl stepped in behind him. "I am. Gabriella this is Sharpay."

Gabriella's heart skipped a beat. Was this Troy's… girlfriend? She had been so stupid. So stupid to think that a guy as handsome as him would be single. That was ridiculous. And even more ridiculous that she thought he liked her too… Why would he like her? She was nothing compared to Sharpay. Sharpay was tall and tan. She had an oval face with bright green eyes and fair skin. She was dressed in a sparkly pink skirt and a pink tank top and Stiletto heels. Of course Troy wouldn't want Gabriella when he could have someone as gorgeous as Sharpay.

"Ah," Sharpay smiled warmly. "The infamous Gabriella. I've heard so much about you. You're just as beautiful as Troy described you to be." She stuck her hand out as she walked toward Gabriella, with a click of her Stiletto heels.

Gabriella shook her hand and smiled too, trying not to act too effected by the events that were playing out before her. "Well, thanks," she said softly.

Troy couldn't help but notice how Gabriella's smile had faltered and how her face was now downcast. "What's wrong?" He said, rushing to her side. "Are you not happy to see me?"

"Of course I am!" Gabriella exclaimed. "You're my best friend."

Troy bit his lip. "Okay… You looked kind of sad. I mean, I know I wasn't supposed to be here. I was supposed to be shopping with Sharpay for my friend Zeke's birthday."

Sharpay grinned. "Zeke's my boyfriend."

Gabriella smiled as realization crashed over her like a large wave, hitting her flat out in the face. She felt the sudden urge to laugh. "I thought… I thought you two were… Like, dating."

Sharpay and Troy both gave her a disgusted look.

"Ew!" Sharpay shrieked.

"Hey now!" Troy said in defense. "Are you saying you wouldn't want to date me?"

"Of course I am saying that!" Sharpay said. "You're weird. Haha. No. Just kidding. I love you and all. But not like that." She looked at Gabriella. "Is that why you…? Oh. Sorry. No. We're not dating. We never have and _never _will."

Troy was confused. "Is that why she what?" He asked, looking back and forth between Sharpay and Gabriella, who both just laughed.

Sharpay patted him on the head. "It's okay, buddy. It's okay now."

Troy rolled his beautiful eyes.

"Don't do that," Gabriella warned jokingly. "Your eyes can get stuck like that. And if they were, no offense, but you would look _extremely _weird like that."

Troy frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. "Does this mean you wouldn't be talking to me if I weren't so handsome? If I were ugly, we wouldn't be friends?"

Gabriella shook her head. She didn't want to come across as rude. "No! Of course not! I mean, never… I didn't mean it like that. If it came out like that I… That wasn't meant to be said like that. I must've said it weirdly… Yeah, I guess I did."

"Relax," Sharpay said. "He's only joking."

"Anyway," Troy said, sitting down on Gabriella's bed. He placed a kiss on her forehead. "How are you feeling? I haven't seen you since… Last night."

"Oh, the terror," Sharpay feigned horror, sitting down in the chair next to the bed, and picking up a magazine on the nightstand. She flipped through it, looking at the pictures intensely. "That must have been terrible. Not seeing each other for a whole… what?… eight hours?"

"Yes," Troy and Gabriella said in unison. Then they looked at each other and laughed.

Sharpay shook her head and smiled. "Weirdoes." She looked up. "Can I give you a makeover?" She asked Gabriella. "Not that you don't look beautiful, I'm just really bored. And I brought my makeup kit. I bring it with my everywhere I go." She motioned toward the door, where a small pink box was sitting by the door, with capital SE on it. She walked over and picked it up. "Please?" She gave Gabriella a small pout.

"Just do it," Troy said. "She won't leave you alone if you don't let her."

"Yeah, see? Troy knows," Sharpay nodded. "I can be very persuasive when I want to be. One time, Troy actually let me paint his nails. But that's a story for a different time. It's a really long one and we have plenty of time." She sat down on Gabriella's right side. "What color do you want your nails to be? What's your favorite color?"

Gabriella thought for a moment. "Uhm. Purple."

Sharpay smiled. "I have the perfect purple glittery color right here." She picked up Gabriella's right hand and shook her finger nail polish bottle. She began applying it slowly, careful not to mess up.

"Wow, you're really pro at this," Gabriella said.

"Thanks," Sharpay smiled. "I want to be in the fashion business and whatnot, so I've got to get the small things like these down now, so I can go to beauty school later and pass with flying colors. And hopefully I'll be an actress one day…"

"Wow, high ambitions," Gabriella commented. "That's so cool to have your dreams set to high."

"What do you want to do when you're older, Brie?" Troy asked, gazing at Gabriella. "We've never talked about this before." He moved closer to her on the bed, situating himself with his arm around her shoulders, sitting as close as possible to her without freaking her out.

Gabriella closed her eyes, trying hard to remember. She blushed and opened her eyes when it finally came to her. "I think I want to sing…" She trailed off. "I don't even know if I'm good or not. I hope I am. Because I really want to sing."

"Sweet," Troy grinned. "I've heard you sing. You sing nice."

"When?" Gabriella asked.

"The other day, when you were laying in bed, just before I came in. I stood outside the door and listened. Your voice is beautiful, just like you." Troy said sweetly.

Gabriella blushed a deep crimson color and looked away shyly. "You amaze me."

"Not as much as you amaze me."

Sharpay watched as Troy and Gabriella talked. She knew they were close. She wasn't sure how, but she knew they were. And she also knew one thing that they didn't. They were in love. It was obvious as daylight to anyone but them. They obviously hadn't noticed it yet, or she was sure they'd have done something about it. But it was cute. Having Troy made things so much easier and less lonely for Gabriella.


	3. Chapter 3

Gabriella awoke with a start the next morning. When she heard breathing next to her, she immediately freaked out. But, looking over, she realized Troy had fallen asleep on her left side, facing her. His eyes were closed and his face relaxed, he looked so peaceful. She looked around to spot Sharpay, wondering if she'd left last night. She hadn't. She was in the chair on the right side of the bed, curled up, her knees tucked into her chest, and her head resting on her knees. Someone had been courteous enough to through a cotton blanket over her.

Troy and Sharpay had spent the night with her. That meant the world to her. She smiled to herself, happy she now had some good friends. She'd only known Sharpay a day, but she was nice and funny, and she made Gabriella laugh. So that was all it took for Gabriella to befriend her. Gabriella needed friends. She craved the feeling of love, which she had apparently lacked so much in her past.

She had been abused. How a father could do that to his father, she didn't know. But it scared her. So if he'd done it once, he'd done it many times. And who's to say he couldn't come and do it again? She shuddered at the thought. _No, _her brain told her. _Don't be silly, Gabriella. He's locked up for good. They're not ever letting him out, not after the pain and misery he put you through. You shouldn't feel scared, you should feel strong for fighting through all of that._

"Ella?" Troy's voice came from beside her, raspy and hoarse and still half-asleep. He shifted his body a little closer to her, snuggling against her.

Gabriella smiled and relaxed against Troy's body. She felt perfectly safe with him. She knew he wouldn't hurt her. If anything, she hoped he would protect her. And he was here at the hospital all of the time. Just to see her. Just for her. Not for anyone else. She was the only patient he ever visited here, Lucille had told her. She was the only one he cared about enough to come and see every day.

Troy stirred again in his sleep. He mumbled something under his breath, before sitting up straight, with his eyes still closed. He said something again but it was too quick for Gabriella to catch. Then, he fell backwards onto the bed again, with such force, that the bed shook. Gabriella giggled. What on Earth was he doing? Troy snuggled back up against Gabriella, smacking his lips weirdly together, making a sound that made Gabriella shiver.

And then his eyes flickered open, revealing the baby blue orbs underneath. He grinned at Gabriella, that freaking award-winning grin again. She almost melted right there, before him. If he was a god, she would bow down to him. Because right now, he looked like some sort of god. Such a handsome god. "Good morning," he whispered.

Gabriella realized she was facing him as well now. And they were only inches apart. "Good morning," she whispered back, not even sure why they were whispering. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," Troy said, closing his eyes for a millisecond. When he did that, Gabriella missed seeing his beautiful eyes probing her with such curiosity. "But I stayed up half of the night…"

"Well, why did you do that?"

"I was watching you sleep," Troy responded nonchalantly. "You're very beautiful. Did you know that?"

Gabriella shook her head. "No one's ever told me that before."

"What?" Troy looked at her in disbelief. "Whatever."

Gabriella bit her lip and shook her head again. "No, T, I'm serious. No one in my life has ever told me I'm beautiful before."

"That's impossible," Troy said, softly in Gabriella's ear. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met." Gabriella blushed. "Are you sure no one's ever told you that you are? Maybe you just don't remember anyone saying that. I bet they have…"

"No, I would remember," Gabriella said. "Being told your beautiful is one of the most amazing compliments a girl could ever get."

"Well, then, your beautiful," Troy said again. "How did you sleep, beautiful?"

Gabriella blinked and paused to get rid of the redness in her cheeks. "Very well, actually. You're very warm. Did you know that? You radiate a lot of heat."

"I know," Troy replied, grinning from ear to ear. "I get to sleep with myself every single night at my house."

"Lucky," Gabriella whispered. She could feel Troy's sweet breath hot on her face. It sent tingles down her spine, making her entire body shiver and shake and shudder. It was amazing; the feelings this one boy could bring upon her. It was crazy; that she was already so attached to him after knowing him for only about two months. But Troy was the first one who was there for her, who talked to her, who comforted her, who cared for her. And that meant a lot to her. She hesitated. "Why did you stay the night here with me last night?" She asked softly, playing with her fingers nervously.

"Because I wanted to," Troy said simply.

Gabriella continued to play with her fingers and gave him a small nod.

Troy's hands found Gabriella's simultaneously and her intertwined his fingers with hers. She looked up at him, her breath taken away by what he'd just done. "And there's one more reason…" He said, his breath still warm on her face, taking her own breath out of her lungs. Her heart stopped beating for a moment. Troy drew out the answer, making Gabriella's curiosity peak at it's highest. It seemed like eternity that he just simply looked at her, holding off the other reason.

"What… What's that?" She managed to breathe out.

Troy paused again. He brought her hands up to his lips and placed a kiss on them. "Because I love you."

Gabriella's world completely froze. She swore her heart missed about fifty beats. She just stared at Troy, her eyes wide mocha orbs, shocked by what he had just confessed to her. _This has to be a dream, _her brain told her. _Wake up, wake up. You're only dreaming. _Gabriella swallowed hard. Troy placed a kiss on each of her knuckles, bringing her back to her senses. "You… You what?"

Troy chuckled lightly. "That's right. I said it. I love you."

"Say it again," Gabriella whispered. "Please. So I know this isn't some terrible joke."

"I'm not joking, Ella," Troy said, looking serious as hell. "I've known you for two months now. And for one of those months, you were in a coma. But it was like I knew you before we met, before you ever even came into this hospital, before you came into my life. You're like an angel, who came down from heaven to save me. One beautiful little angel… And I know it seems impossible, I have a hard time believing it myself, but I'm helplessly and utterly devoted to you. I love you, Ella."

Tears had clouded Gabriella's vision.

"And I understand if you don't feel the same way," Troy spoke. "I get it. If it's too early, or if you don't even think about me like that… It's okay if you just want to be friends. I'm a big boy, I'll get over it, I think…"

"Troy, you're rambling," Gabriella whispered.

"Sorry…"

"And I love you, too," She added, a sweet smile on her face. She looked down at their intertwined fingers and loved the feeling of his hands, his skin against hers. His skin was so soft and warm. She loved the feeling of him, the sound of him, the scent of him. She loved everything about him. She couldn't deny it. There was no denying it. "But it's impossible."

"Nothing's impossible," Troy said quietly, kissing Gabriella on the cheek. He didn't know that she was ready for a real kiss yet. After everything she'd been through, he didn't expect it. And he didn't mind waiting. He wasn't going to pressure her. He would wait forever for her. "But can I ask you something?" He asked.

"Shoot."

Troy cleared his throat. "How come you never told anyone about your father abusing you?"

Gabriella closed her eyes. Oh, how she wished he hadn't brought that up. Any time anyone spoke of it, she would relive it over and over and over again. And she was sure that now she would dream about it tonight. But she couldn't blame him. Sometimes she wondered why she hadn't done that as well. But the truth was, she didn't know. She was young, stupid; a child. Maybe she'd thought it would only get her in more trouble. Maybe she was simply scared. Maybe he'd convinced her otherwise. She shook her head.

"I don't understand," Troy said. "Why would you let him get away with that?"

"He was my dad," Gabriella whimpered. "What was I supposed to do? Report him? That's not what good daughters do…"

"So you were trying to be a good daughter?" Troy asked.

Gabriella shrugged. "I don't really know." She closed her eyes, the images shooting back into her mind, replaying over and over again like movies in her head. She tried and tried to shake them off, but they just wouldn't leave. No matter what she did, she knew the memories and dreams of terror would stay with her for the rest of her life. She felt tears stinging at the insides of her eyelids. And she was sure that if she opened her eyes, she would cry. And she didn't want to cry in front of Troy again. She didn't like making herself that vulnerable in front of anyone, especially Troy.

Gabriella's lower lip quivered, showing that she was about to cry. And sure enough, the tears slipped from her closed eyelids and down her cheeks, down to the white sheets beneath her. She let go of Troy's hands, wrapping her arms around her own body, feeling extremely scared and left alone. Though Troy was here, it felt like he wasn't. She felt completely alone here and now. She felt the weight on the mattress lighten, as Troy sat up next to her. She figured he was leaving, making her cry even harder. But he wasn't. Suddenly, his arms wrapped around her and pulled her onto his lap. She buried her head into his chest, inhaling his scent. Troy allowed her tears to soak his shirt. It didn't bother him. What bothered him was that his baby was crying. He hated that. It made him want to cry as well.

Troy rocked her back and forth slowly, as if she were a baby. Sharpay's eyes snapped open, as soon as she heard Gabriella crying. She shoved the blanket off of her and stood up, walking over to the hospital bed. She sat down on the mattress and rubbed Gabriella's back in soothing circles, trying her best to calm her down. "What happened?" She mouth at Troy.

"Later," was all that Troy could say. He turned back to look at Gabriella, who was clinging tightly to his shirt, as if fearing he would disappear at any given moment. "I'm sorry, princess," Troy whispered into her dark curls. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to know why…" She only cried harder, causing tears to form on the edge of Troy's eyelids, and Sharpay's as well. Troy buried his head into the crook of Gabriella's neck, gripping her as tight to his body as he could.

Sharpay understood now. She slowly fit the pieces together in her mind. They had obviously been talking about her situation. She knew about that. Troy had told her beforehand. Gabriella was such a sweet girl. She didn't understand how anyone could ever want to harm her. She couldn't understand how sick Gabriella's father must have been. There must have been something mentally wrong with him. Not just the alcohol. Sure, alcohol makes a person different, but it doesn't cause a person to haul off and hit their own daughter.

"It's okay," she whispered, to Troy and Gabriella both, though she knew even herself that it wasn't okay. It would never be okay.

She realized now that Troy was whispering sweet nothings into Gabriella's ear.

She smiled to herself.

The door opened and Lucile stepped in. Sharpay was the only one who bothered to look. Troy and Gabriella may not have even noticed. They were too caught up in each other. Troy was still holding her on his lap, gripping her with all his strength, his head buried into her neck. Gabriella's head was burrowed into Troy's toned chest. She was crying and listening to his soothing heartbeat, which calmed her the smallest bit.

Sharpay stood up and walked over to Lucille. "What's going on?" Lucille asked Sharpay, immediately panicking.

"They're just sort of having a bonding moment," Sharpay said, looking back at the couple on the bed. "Everything's fine. As long as Troy's with her, I think she'll be okay. I think he just asked her something about her past and it upset her. He didn't mean to, though, obviously. Would you look at the poor kid? He looks heartbroken that he made her cry."

Lucille nodded. "As long as you're sure they're okay… But I need to do some daily checking up on Gabriella. You know, take her pulse, her temperature, listen to her breathing… The usual. Do you think you could help me get them to get apart at least a little?"

Sharpay nodded and she and Lucille approached Gabriella's bed again. "Gabriella, sweetie, I'm here to do your daily checkup." When Gabriella didn't budge, Lucille sighed. "Troy, honey, do you think you can help me out here?"

Troy looked up, his eyes red and puffy from crying. "Mom, I can't just leave her."

"You don't have to leave her," Lucille whispered. "But I can't take her temperature without her facing me. And she's facing you. Gabriella, sweetheart, I understand you're upset, but it's procedure, remember?"

Gabriella whimpered.

"Troy, please," Lucille said. "At least get her to look at me."

"Baby," Troy cooed, his voice cracking from the dryness of his throat. "Can you look at Lucille, princess?" He asked her quietly. She still didn't move, she just started crying again. Troy tried to pry her away from him a bit, but she wouldn't move.

Sharpay attempted to do this as well, with the help of Lucille. "Gabby," Sharpay said. "Listen, we need to take your temperature and pulse. But you have to calm down first. And we need you to look at us, okay? Can you look at us?"

Gabriella finally looked up at them, her own eyes red and raw and puffy. She choked out a sob and climbed off of Troy's lap, sitting next to him instead. He was confused as to why she got completely off. Troy looked at her. God, she still looked beautiful. No matter what she did, she was always beautiful to him. But she looked upset. And then Troy realized what she must have been thinking. She must have thought that he wanted her to get off when he was prying at her. But that wasn't it. He was trying to get her to look at his mom.

Gabriella held herself away from Troy the slightest bit. She was hurt. Anyone could've seen that. Troy shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but Gabriella let out another sob, as Lucille put her hand to her forehead, making sure she wasn't running a fever. Then, she pulled a thermometer out of her pocket and unwrapped it, sticking it under Gabriella's tongue. Sharpay sat on the other side of Gabriella, placing her hand on her back and rubbing it comfortingly. There was a small beep, signaling the thermometer had done it's job.

"Okay," Lucille wrote that down on her clipboard. "Good." She picked up Gabriella's limp wrist and paused, waiting for her pulse. She nodded and wrote something down again. "I have something else I need you to do today. I need to weigh you and record your height, okay?"

Gabriella nodded weakly.

"Do you have the strength to stand?" She asked.

"I got it," Troy said, putting his arm around Gabriella's waist, rising slowly, bringing her to her feet. He helped her walk over to the door, where the scale was sitting. He stood stock still, as her leaning post, as Sharpay helped her to climb onto the scale. Her legs were still weak. She'd been going through physical therapy, but it would take some time.

Lucille adjusted the things on the very top. She bit her lip. "Eh… 92." She jotted that down. "Damn. I thought we'd been feeding you enough. Somehow, you managed to lose another three pounds. I don't know how that happened…"

"How much did she weigh when she came in here?" Troy asked, concern evident and his voice and written all over the face. Girls weren't supposed to be that skinny. That was just unhealthy. He knew that Sharpay weight at least 120 pounds and she was skinny herself.

"Uh, about 115," Lucille spoke.

"Twenty pounds," Troy whispered. "Baby, we gotta get you to eat more."

Gabriella looked at him and then at Lucille and then at Sharpay. "I'm never hungry."

"Don't do that," Troy warned her. "You're not anorexic."

As if on cue, the older nurse from the other night came in with a tray in her hands. She handed it to Lucille and left, as if in a hurry. Lucille looked down at it. "They're giving you more solids. Maybe that will help you get a little meat on those bones."

Gabriella shook her head again. "I'm not hungry right now. Troy, can you help me to my bed?" Troy put his arm around her waist and helped her make it safely over to her bed. She propped herself up on some pillows. Troy sat next to her.

"Ella, you have to eat," Troy said.

"Gabby, please eat," Sharpay said. "It's not healthy."

Gabriella shook her head and folded her arms over her chest.

"You're too skinny," Lucille said. "We've got to get you food somehow. Don't make me have to force you. It's too much of a struggle. And I don't want to fight you again."

"Precious," Troy whispered, intertwining his fingers with her again. "Please eat. For me?" He grabbed the tray from his mom and layed it on Gabriella's lap. He picked up a spoonful of mashed potatoes and held it up to Gabriella's mouth. Gabriella gave him a skeptical look, but opened her mouth and ate the food. "Thank you, love." He grinned.

Gabriella felt lucky to have so many people care about her. Though it was only three, it was still some people who cared about her, which she lacked for the majority of her life. And it felt good. It felt so good. Things were finally starting to fall into place for Gabriella.


End file.
